


i can't do this on my own

by dissociativeclifford



Series: young dumb broke high school kids [7]
Category: South Park
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, maybe there'll be a second chapter?, they're sober!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 18:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14407992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dissociativeclifford/pseuds/dissociativeclifford
Summary: it's 1:03 am and i wrote something JUST BARELY over 2k words.YOU GET ANGST.PERISH.(just kidding it'll be okay)





	i can't do this on my own

**Author's Note:**

> it's 1:03 am and i wrote something JUST BARELY over 2k words.
> 
> YOU GET ANGST.  
> PERISH.
> 
> (just kidding it'll be okay)

A knock on the door at 11pm definitely does  _ not _ yank Stan Marsh out of his crime-documentary binging, and he definitely does  _ not _ immediately look around his room for a weapon just in case some white guy with daddy issues is waiting outside to violently dismember him.   _ Definitely _ not.

(Maybe binge-watching serial killer documentaries while home alone for the weekend wasn’t Stan’s most genius idea.  But he figures he’s made worse choices before.)

Stan figures his white-guy-with-daddy-issues profile wasn’t  _ entirely _ wrong when he tiptoes down the stairs, switchblade tucked tightly between his curled fingers, and peers through the peephole to see none other than his very own Kenny McCormick shivering on his doorstep.

Not wanting to look  _ entirely _ insane, Stan manages to toss his trusty knife onto the table by the door before unlocking its chain lock.  What he doesn’t expect is Kenny to immediately come crashing against his chest, noticeably cold from the walk over.

Late-night visits from Kenny, or the other way around, aren’t uncommon to Stan.  Especially on a night like tonight, where Kenny knows for a fact that he’ll have Stan all to himself.  But something seems  _ off _ tonight, maybe it’s the way that Kenny doesn’t have his signature smirk on his lips, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s shivering from the cold without a hoodie on, maybe that he hasn’t spoken and he’s just pressing himself against Stan’s chest like his life depends on it.

“Ken?  What’s up?” Stan manages to get past his lips, concern fogging his brain.  Kenny’s blonde hair is itching Stan’s jaw, his face pressed into the crook of Stan’s neck.  He pulls back ever so slightly, but doesn’t look at Stan just yet, his eyes focused off somewhere in the distance.

“I- I…” Kenny stammers, his voice breaking.  Stan can see tears pooling at the corners of Kenny’s eyes, and gently cradles the blonde’s face in his hands, not knowing what to do.  He’s used to Kenny coming to his rescue, whether he’s drunk or sad or scared or un-admittedly suicidal, but now that he thinks of it he can’t even remember a time he’s seen Kenny cry before.

Kenny is still shaking, so Stan guides him over to the couch.  Kenny seems to be functioning on autopilot, judging by the way his knees give out when his body drops back onto the couch.

“Ken, hey, c’mere,” Stan murmurs gently, pulling Kenny ever-so-softly into his arms.  The blonde’s skin is prickling with goosebumps, and Stan rubs his hands up and down Kenny’s arms, eventually wrapping a blanket around him.  Kenny looks so fragile, so small, in a way Stan has never seen before. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

Kenny nods almost violently, the lump in his throat preventing him from speaking.

“Can you tell me?”

At that, Kenny shakes his head, collapsing into Stan’s chest once again.  Stan sighs sadly, pressing his nose into Kenny’s hair and rubbing his back.  He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He feels lost, confused, scared- everything he  _ shouldn’t _ be feeling, really, because he’s supposed to be helping Kenny, not the other way around.  He seems to go with his gut, though, when a sob rips itself from Kenny’s throat against Stan’s shoulder.  He’s definitely sure he’s never seen Kenny cry like  _ this _ , and he wraps his limbs around Kenny’s cold body, petting his hair and murmuring to him.

“It’ll be okay, just breathe for me,” Stan whispers close to Kenny’s ear.  He feels awful himself, not being able to help Kenny properly. But he knows Kenny needs him right now, so he tries to push away his insecurities, just for the time being.  His voice is low- for some reason, the moment seems much too intimate for him to speak at full, even half volume, so he sticks to whispering gently to Kenny as he shakes.

Eventually, the blonde’s breathing returns to a normal, nevertheless shaky, pace.  Stan’s almost positive Kenny’s passed out against his chest, until he hears his unnervingly small voice go, “They’re gonna take her.”

Stan tucks his fingers under Kenny’s chin, pulling his face up ever so slightly.  The blonde’s eyes are red and puffy, as expected, but he looks so  _ broken _ and Stan swears he can feel his heart breaking for the other.  “What? Who’s gonna take who?” he asks, panic evident in his voice from Kenny’s chilling confession, but trying to stay calm for the latter’s sake.

“CPS.  They’re, they’re gonna take Karen,” Kenny nearly whimpers, and Stan can see his resolve crumbling again.  The blonde gasps, like he’s trying to pull more air into his lungs, and his body starts to shake again.

“Hey, Ken, look at me, hey,” Stan orders, cupping Kenny’s face with his hands.  “We’re gonna breathe, yeah? Can you do that for me?” he says, surprisingly calm, keeping his eyes in contact with Kenny’s.  He honestly has no clue what he’s doing, and it scares him, but he tries to think of all the panic attacks Kenny’s helped him through and mimics that.

Kenny nods, swallowing harshly.  He clutches at his throat; it feels like he’s swallowing an actual rock and it’s a kind of pain he hasn’t felt in a long time.  Stan’s eyes widen, afraid, and he stands up, still holding Kenny gently. “I’m just gonna get some water, okay? I’ll be right back, I’m not going anywhere, I’ll be right here,” he assures Kenny, before walking to the kitchen.

Pouring a full glass of ice water, Stan reminds himself to breathe as well.  Kenny’s hurting and therefore they’re both hurting, and Stan’s internally praying to any god that may be out there to help the both of them get through the night.  He takes a deep, shaky breath and returns to the living room. Kenny’s wrapped himself up in the blanket, trying to salvage the warmth Stan left him with.

“Drink, please,” Stan says, calm and collected as he returns to his spot on the couch next to Kenny.  He snuggles up close to the other, holding Kenny against him, holding the cold glass to his lips. Kenny’s face seems to flush a little at the attention he’s being payed, and sips the ice water slowly, exhaling deeply afterwards.

Kenny seems to have calmed himself down a bit, and leans against Stan’s shoulder.  He has Stan’s slightly-smaller hand wrapped up in his own, gently playing with Stan’s fingers to distract himself.

“She went to school without any food again,” Kenny says, his voice almost a whisper.  “And then, her teacher found out that kids were daring her to do stuff for money. Like I used to,” he explains, digging his fingernails into Stan’s palms as he speaks.  “She was trying to steal test answers from one of her teachers’ desks. And when they asked her why, she said she was getting payed to do it, ‘cause she needed money for lunch.  And it was a whole thing, and they called people to the house, and God Stan I don’t know what’s gonna happen.” Stan rubs Kenny’s back gently as he sees tears pooling in his eyes again, feeling his own heart break when Kenny whimpers, “I’m so scared.”

Stan lets Kenny crawl onto his lap, holding him tightly.  Trying to stay calm and logical, for Kenny’s sake, Stan asks, “Where is she now?”

“They took her to a group home for a few days, while they figure stuff out,” Kenny whispers, goosebumps prickling his skin once again.  “I told her I was gonna fix it, but, but… I don’t know what to do, Stan. I can’t fix it.”

Stan feels Kenny’s hot tears seep through the fabric on his shoulder, and he feel his own eyes burning as well.  He’s never been good with other people’s emotions, especially not those of the people he treasured the most; it was always too much for him to handle reasonably.

Kenny doesn’t stop there, though.  “I don’t have the money for my own place, I’m almost there but not yet, but I’m not even seventeen for another six months so there’s no way I could be her legal guardian, and Kevin’s all the way in Washington and I don’t know when he can get out of work and come back here, I don’t know-”

“Hey, look at me,” Stan says firmly, interrupting Kenny with his confident tone, which contradicts the tears glazing over his eyes.  Kenny looks up, brown eyes meeting blue, and seems taken aback by the emotion on Stan’s face. “We’ll fix it together, yeah? We won’t let them take her from you.”

At that, Kenny breaks down again.

“Fuck, shit, I’m sorry, Ken, I didn’t know what to say, I’m sorry, that was dumb of me,” Stan rambles, his walls finally crumbling as he thinks he somehow screwed up Kenny’s situation even more.  “I’m sorry, Kenny, just let me know what you need.”

Kenny sniffles, wiping his eyes, and Stan is incredibly confused because now the blonde is  _ smiling _ .  Of course, he figures that he shouldn’t be surprised by a little smiling and crying, considering he himself has had breakdowns where he’s cried until he laughed until he cried again, all at his own despair.

“No, you’re not, you’re fine, you’re perfect,” Kenny manages to get past his lips, still sniffling and shaking a little.  “You’re the best. Always.”

Stan doesn’t know what to make of that, but he pets Kenny’s hair nonetheless, glad he’s a little more calm now.  Kenny sighs deeply at the touch, like he’s been holding back his breath for hours, which he probably has.

“C-Can we sleep?  I’m so tired…” Kenny mumbles, and his point is evident by the way his eyes are drooping and the yawn that subsequently follows.

“Of course,” Stan reassures, leaning forward to press a soft kiss onto Kenny’s wet cheek.  He’s still getting used to all this, the concept of having a relationship that’s more than just fucking.  Even if they haven’t had  _ that talk _ yet, he knows Kenny is his.  He scoops his hands under Kenny’s thighs, keeping the blonde wrapped in the blanket as he stands.  Kenny’s taller than him, but he’s also as light as a feather, and Stan easily carries him up the stairs.

“Ken, take your jeans off,” Stan orders once he rests Kenny on the bed, trying to help him take care of himself.  

Kenny kicks off his jeans, his limbs feeling heavy as he curls up on the bed in his white t-shirt and boxer briefs.  Half-awake, he only barely registers Stan pulling off the stained tee and replacing it with one of his slightly-larger band shirts.  But he does register the warmth, the softness, Stan’s scent enveloping him. And then Stan is in bed next to him, thick arms wrapping around Kenny’s fragile frame, holding him close as if to never let him go.

“I’ll call Mom in the morning, okay? You know you and Karen are always welcome here,” Stan murmurs while he pets Kenny’s hair, and the blonde nods softly against his hand.  Stan smiles fondly as he remembers years ago, when Karen would stay over on harder nights, and Shelly would braid her hair and let Karen take home any childhood clothes she had.  It’s a fond memory for him; it makes it easier for him to see Shelly as who she really is instead of the bully he grew up with. Especially now that she’s going to college in Arizona.

Kenny starts mouthing at Stan’s neck, ever so gently, still fully sleepy and exhausted.  He presses a few little kisses up Stan’s neck, onto his jaw, behind his ear, but nothing more.  Just loving, soft, something he doesn’t express too much. Stan thinks he hears a mumbled little “thank you” or something along the lines, and he just hums, continuing to play with Kenny’s rough hair until he falls asleep.

Stan knows what will happen in the morning, from his own experiences.  He knows Kenny’ll wake up with a headache, clogged sinuses, and itchy eyes, probably sweaty and confused as well.  He knows that the next few weeks will be hell, with lots of crying, lots of learning to work with Kenny’s feelings, and probably learning how guardianship laws in Colorado work as well.  Most of all, he knows that he wouldn’t trade Kenny for anything in the world.

It’s late.  His back hurts from twisting to hold Kenny in just the right way, his head hurts a little from trying to figure out how he could help, and his heart hurts a whole lot from seeing Kenny in so much pain.

Despite all that, Stan falls asleep feeling hopeful, and  _ definitely not _ picturing he and Kenny driving Karen to school in the mornings from their future apartment in the city.


End file.
